Rachel Berry you are NOT psychic
by noothernames
Summary: Rachel realises one day that she has fully come into her psychic powers and soon the whole of Lima becomes enthralled with her abilities. There is just one person that isn't quite convinced that Rachel is anything special, and that's one Quinn Fabray.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone, this is going to be a (I believe)three part story. The other parts will be longer, I promise. This idea has been rattling around in my brain for long enough, so I figured I might as well write it. Anyway, enjoy! And if you are thus inclined, I have a tumblr: noothernames(dot)tumblr(dot)com.

* * *

Quinn dropped herself down into a chair in the Glee club room with an annoyed huff. Today had just been a terrible day.

She had intended to start the day off by putting on her best outfit, which included a very cute pair of heels. However, when she had gone to her closet to find said heels she discovered that they weren't there. Probably swiped by Santana. The bitch. They weren't even her style, meaning they weren't six inch high strappy stilettos. So because she didn't have the heels she had to choose a different outfit –one that wasn't nearly as nice as the first –to go with her pair of sneakers.

She was at that point late for school. So she forewent breakfast and rushed to her car. She shivered at the freezing interior of the car and quickly turned the ignition, eager to get the heater going. There was one complication to that plan, her car didn't start. Swearing foully under her breath, Quinn tried turning the ignition again and again.

Nothing.

Her battery must have been dead or something. Great. And her mom had gone to work already and so she couldn't give her a boost.

Weighing her limited options, she bit the bullet and chose an unsavoury one. She scrolled through the contacts list of her cell and called the number. The phone only rang twice before an answer came through.

"What the fuck do you want, Fabray?"

Quinn made an irritated face.

"Oh that's just charming. I need you to come pick me up, my car won't start."

"How is that my problem?"

"Please S, I just need you today," Quinn said with a softer tone, remembering that you're supposed to be nice to people you're asking favours from.

"A lot of girls _need_ me Quinn. What makes you so special?"

She rolled her eyes at the predictable sexual innuendo.

"Well do you remember how you stole my boyfriend a couple weeks ago? I think you owe me one."

Santana snorted in derision.

"Yeah, and I kept him for about two seconds before I got a much better offer. He's free now and I don't see you chasing him around so don't pretend like you're upset about it."

Quinn made a sound of agreement, against her will. She had been upset about the whole Sam and Santana thing at first but it had been such a short relationship that it was done almost before it began. And now that Sam was single again, and starting to seem interested in reconnecting with Quinn, she just didn't feel like going there for whatever reason.

"Alright, I'm glad we're in agreement. So now let's just say I'll pick you up and you owe me a _favour_ in the future..." Santana said, with an ominous tone.

Quinn felt a chill go down her spine. Santana was famous for racking in favours from different people and never cashing in on them. She told everyone that she was saving them up for something _big_. She even kept meticulous record of the favours owed to her by different people in a leather bound book. Possibly written in blood, or at least that's what Quinn imagined.

She specifically avoided asking Santana for anything for this very reason. She didn't want to owe so many favours that one day Santana would demand help in moving a body or for a set of her fingerprints on the murder weapon or something.

"Q, stop thinking about whatever sexual fantasy you have in your head and answer me. Do we have a deal or not?"

She flushed furiously and glared at her car. She took a quick look at her watch. It was getting late.

_Son of a..._

"Fine. Get here soon," she said through gritted teeth.

She could practically _hear_ the smirk in Santana's reply.

"Of course, my good friend. You won't regret this. Actually, you might."

Santana _had_ arrived at her house quickly, at least. But apparently having that favour to hold over Quinn's head wasn't enough to satisfy her. In the car Quinn sat with arms crossed, trying to ignore her gloating friend. And Santana saw this as an opportunity to torture her.

"What's that Quinn? You want me to tell you about what Britt and I did the other night? In detail? Of course you would you dirty girl," She taunted.

And so she did go into detail and Quinn sat in her seat blushing so hard she thought she might faint. Santana especially relished how Quinn would flinch at certain anatomical words. She knew exactly what to say to make the former Celibacy club president incredibly uncomfortable.

What Quinn hoped that Santana didn't know was that much of her discomfort with this story had to do with the fact that completely against her will she was getting turned on by the description of her friends getting it on. By the way Santana smirked at her though, that might have been too much to hope for.

God Glee club really did turn you gay. Quinn had never thought about these things before joining. Or at least she didn't think about them _as much_ before.

Stupid teenage hormones.

Finally, the assault ended as they reached school. They parted ways, each headed to their individual classes. Or at least Quinn had been _intending_ to go to class. But there Finn was, standing in front of the locker that contained all her textbooks, obviously looking to catch her. Quinn had to duck quickly out of the hallway before he saw her. _Great, just great._

Finn had been hounding her for weeks, asking her out and trying to show her how much better he was than Sam. Whatever appeal he had had when she was still dating Sam was ruined by his unceasing persistence and the unwarranted arrogance that he had developed.

And now she was hiding from him in the library and missing her history class. This was exactly what she had wanted to be on time to school for. It was totally worth owing the mystery favour to Santana.

So she sat and stewed in silence until about half her class was over before sneaking to her locker. She was almost sure that Finn wasn't so dumb or desperate that he would miss his whole class just for the chance to talk to her, but she wasn't completely sure. Thankfully the hall was empty when she got to it and she was able to retrieve her books before retreating back to the library. She wasn't going to chance meeting Finn in between classes.

She went to English class when the bell sounded, hoping that her day would start to turn up a bit. No such luck.

The poetry assignment that she thought was due next week was apparently due today and all Quinn had on hand was the rough copy of a terrible attempt at an ode. And her teacher even selected her as one of the lucky few that got the _marvellous_ opportunity of reading the poem aloud to the class before handing it in. She could feel the whole class holding in laughter, revelling in her embarrassment as she stumbled through the poorly worded thing. Then when she went to hand in the poem her teacher looked at the slightly crumpled loose-leaf page –written in pencil, no less –in distaste.

Things just kept to that standard of crappiness all day. And now she was in Glee club when really all she wanted to do was get home somehow and sleep until the world righted itself. The last thing she needed that day was for Rachel Berry to walk in and start shoving her crazy in everyone's faces.

And that's exactly what happened.

Everyone save Rachel was in the room and Mr Schue was about to start when the girl made her dramatic entrance and went to stand at the front of the room.

"Uh Rachel? Did you want something?" Will asked her.

_He really needs to learn not to ask her that_, Quinn thought with a frown.

"Mr Schuester, I have an announcement of such great proportions that I'm sure it will shake this entire school, perhaps this entire town, to its core. You might want to take a seat," She dismissed him from the front.

She did _not_ just say that.

Mr Schuester, looking uncertain, took a seat. Rachel briefly smiled at the compliance, before putting her 'serious' face on.

"Members of New Directions, as many of you are aware of, I, Rachel Berry was born with a gift. A sixth sense which, though not fully developed, has in the past lent to me a vast deal of knowledge that my ungifted peers were not privy to," she announced before sending a sympathetic look to said ungifted peers.

You could almost hear the collective eye roll. Quinn felt annoyance start to well up inside her. First Rachel was telling some stupid story which was obviously just a sad attempt at making herself feel even more special than she already was, and now she was taking pity on her fellow members? Really?

She heard Mercedes mutter "Sweet Jesus" and couldn't have agreed with that statement of exasperation more.

"Now, as I've said, this sixth sense was not fully mature. Until now. I have had reason to believe that my psychic powers have grown exponentially, to the point where I can determine important events in the near future, rather than having just the simple intuition that has helped me in the past."

She lifted her head up proudly.

"In other words, I can now truly call myself a psychic," She announced smugly.

A loud snort of laughter that could only have come from Puck resounded through the room. Quinn rolled her eyes and tried to think of something soothing to keep down her anger over the diva's antics. Unfortunately instead of imagining a picturesque beach at sunset, she could only hear Santana's sex stories in her head, which did the very opposite of calm her down. There was some more laughter, as well as some criticisms.

"Really girl? Really?"

"Hey Man Hands, if you're actually psychic, why do you never see the slushies coming?"

"Is that all, Rachel? Because we have a meeting to start..."

"I believe you Rachel."

Everyone in the room turned to look at Brittany, who was grinning genuinely. Rachel seemed taken aback and touched by this.

"Thank you Brittany. They say that all the great ones have to suffer the ridicule of unbelievers until they can prove themselves. But when I do prove myself, everyone will look to you with respect, as the first person to believe in my abilities."

Brittany sat up a little straighter in her chair and sent a smug look Santana's way. The Latina rolled her eyes but then took the girl's hand and squeezed it lovingly.

Finally Quinn felt like she needed to say something because the _frustration_... no, she meant anger, yeah that was a better word, that was building inside her was making her feel like she was going to burst.

"Berry. Do you have any proof of your 'special powers'," she started, using air quotes and dripping sarcasm "or are we just supposed to blindly believe something like this?"

"I could go into the irony of a devoutly Christian girl demanding proof of something seemingly miraculous like this, but I know that would only aggravate you."

Quinn's eyebrows twitched. Well she was good and _aggravated_ now. She fixed the girl with a harsh glare but Rachel seemed immune to it. She probably was, considering their antagonistic history.

"I do have proof, however it will not be revealed until tomorrow. The reason why I chose to tell you all about my psychic powers was because I have discovered that something _big_ is going to happen tomorrow. Something potentially dangerous," Rachel told them portentously.

A shiver went through each member of New Directions. Quinn shook her unrest off, remembering that this was just Rachel being an attention whore again. She looked around the room to see her fellow members' reactions. Most seemed sceptical, but some looked uneasy. Puck in particular was susceptible to superstition and he seemed nervous. Brittany had nestled herself tightly into Santana's side, hugging the girl's arm in a tight grip. Santana was glaring at Rachel, obviously blaming her for Britt's fear. Rachel nodded sympathetically with the group, put a hand on her hip, and continued.

"I would ask you all to remain in your homes and prepare yourselves for any event, whether it is a large-scale riot or a freak snow storm. Stock up on food and first aid supplies and of course fresh water."

The kids were looking to one another in order to figure out if they should believe any of this. There was a growing murmur in the room. Rachel stood still at the front of the room, looking proud that she could help her fellow students. She had no right to look proud of telling them basically nothing. It was pissing Quinn off.

"Really? You expect us to believe that? You've left that so wide open that if _anything_ news-worthy happens tomorrow you're just going to point to it and say 'Oh, you see? I was right'. This is stupid, you are NOT a psychic. Get over yourself."

The murmuring stopped completely as everyone looked back and forth between an irate Quinn and a serenely calm Rachel. After a beat Rachel said "If that's what you believe, Quinn. I'm only looking out for your safety, after all. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Safety? Like Berry gave a damn about anyone other than herself. Quinn stood up quickly, grabbing her bag.

"Whatever, your delusions of grandeur don't faze me. I'm leaving this train wreck of a meeting and tomorrow I'm going to come to school, because it's just going to be a normal day," She announced.

Rachel just looked at her sadly, like she was missing the whole picture. With one last glower Rachel's way, Quinn stormed out of the room. She didn't care that she was going to have to walk all the way home, what was most important was showing Rachel Berry that she was wrong and that Quinn wouldn't put up with her antics.

The next day's events, however, would make it a little harder for her to deny that Rachel Berry had _something_ special about her.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, maybe this will be four parts instead (but as I've come to find, I'm horrible at estimating how many chapters a story will need to run). Thanks to everyone that has reviewed thus far.

* * *

The next day started a lot better for Quinn. She had chosen an outfit the night before and so did not have to look for any missing article or figure out what went with what. She breezily made her way downstairs to her kitchen and made herself a satisfying breakfast. As she ate the food leisurely, she stared out of the window.

Here's the big surprise: there were no signs of the zombie apocalypse.

No riots, no buildings set on fire, no gigantic sink hole that appeared in the middle of the street, and no emergence of the next ice age.

She took another bite of toast and smirked.

Sure, it wasn't the nicest day. It was raining, but maybe that meant that all that gross snow that had piled up was going to melt finally. Or maybe it won't melt and it'll just develop a nice coating of ice for her to slip on. She winced slightly as she remembered the numerous times she had already slipped on ice that year. She needed to learn how that whole "keeping your balance" thing worked.

Maybe Rachel could teach her, after she figures out that she isn't, nor ever will be psychic in any way.

Quinn chuckled softly and glanced at her watch. She had plenty of time before school started, but she would leave now so that she could safely avoid Finn and actually make it to her first class this time. Humming a tune, she got into her car and turned the ignition. The engine roared to life today, thanks to her mother giving her a boost earlier. She put on some good music and drove a little under the speed limit, as the rain beat down steadily on the blacktop.

When she arrived at school, she took the opportunity to go to her locker and get all her books for the day. Finn Hudson would not be trapping her into a "why won't you date me" conversation today. As she closed her locker she heard the frantic footsteps of a short person attempting to walk at a normal person's regular pace.

"Berry, what a surprise to see you here. Shouldn't you be at home digging a bomb shelter?"

Rachel gave her a withering look.

"Quinn, as much as it comforts you to believe that nothing will happen, I am certain that it will. Soon I will be given a clearer vision of exactly what the event will be and I want to be close to my fellow students so that I may warn them as early as possible."

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"I'd have figured that you would be safe at home, guarding your Barbra Streisand CDs with your life."

"What kind of cartoon character do you think I am? I care about more than just myself. I even care about you, Quinn."

Quinn threw her an incredulous look. Why in the world would Rachel care about her? I mean Finn was always after her nowadays and wasn't Rachel in love with him or something?

"It's true! You may mock me, but I think that underneath all the pretence, you're just a normal girl. You're trying to go through life making the right decisions but end up making mistakes, like all of us do. I don't think you intended on hurting Sam this year, or Finn last year, but it happened and on both occasions you've seemed remorseful. You didn't go running to Finn like everyone, including him, thought you would. I think that if you really wanted, you could show everyone the truth, that you're actually a good person when you want to be. "

Hm. Well. That was... interesting.

"Yeah okay, whatever," she shrugged it off, she didn't quite know how to take this... almost compliment from Rachel.

"You're not distracting me from the fact that you are making up this being psychic thing."

Rachel rolled her eyes but had a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"So your mom helped you with whatever was wrong with your car, right? You have it at school today?"

How did Rachel know that?

"How did you know that?"

The diva didn't answer, just put on a satisfied smirk and tilted her head as if to say "elementary my dear Quinn, I'm psychic". Okay well maybe the look didn't do a Sherlock Holmes impression but Rachel was such a dork that she _would_ say something like that. It wasn't endearing at all. Just annoying.

"Not psychic," Quinn said, feeling like it would soon become a mantra of sorts, "Anyway why do you want to know? Other than wanting to annoy me."

"Oh I just wanted to know because I'm planning on having it be my getaway car. For when the event happens. You don't mind driving me to safety in that case, do you Quinn? Since nothing is going to happen, because I'm not actually psychic?"

It was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes. Fine, she could play this game too.

"You know what Berry? If some great disastrous 'event' happens I would be delighted, no, _honoured_ to chauffer you to safety," She said, resisting the urge to call her milady and bow exaggeratedly because that was a bit much, even for her.

Rachel smiled even wider.

"Good, it's settled then."

She gave Quinn a playful wink and went down the hallway, presumably towards the choir room. That was kind of weird. Since when does Rachel wink at her? What _was_ that? Ignoring the fact that her skin now felt uncomfortably warm, she went on with her day.

* * *

Today she actually made it to her history class, and later in English she wasn't publically humiliated, nor were there any assignments due that she had forgotten about, thankfully. The day was going well so far and she was pleased to see that she had a relatively light amount of homework to do later compared to her typical school day. But even with how well the day was going for her so far, she still felt a sense of unease building.

It had to do with Rachel.

She shared most of her morning classes with the diva, who had seemed nothing like the self-assured Rachel that had the audacity to wink at Quinn before classes. Instead the girl was distracted, anxious-looking, and well... she was talking to herself. Muttering, more like, but still. Quinn sat close enough to her in class that she was able to hear her. She was saying stuff like "When is it coming?", "What's happening?" and "soon... soon".

It kind of creeped Quinn out.

She tried poking Berry in the back of the head with her pencil and throwing crumpled up pieces of paper at her to get her to stop rocking back and forth and muttering that, but Rachel just ignored her and batted the paper away. There was only one conclusion: Rachel had gone off the deep end.

And it was probably Quinn's fault.

All she had wanted to do was to show Rachel that she was either lying or being delusional in thinking that she had powers. She pushed and pushed, telling Rachel that she absolutely was not psychic and obviously now she was desperately trying to prove Quinn wrong. She didn't think that the diva would be so obsessed with the idea that she would start talking to herself in order to try to force herself to see the future.

"Why can't I see it?" Rachel asked herself a little louder, digging her fingers through her hair in desperation.

People sitting around Rachel were either snickering or giving her weird looks and Quinn took it upon herself to glare at them until they stopped. She didn't need the teacher noticing that Rachel was acting crazier than usual. She just needed to wait until class ended to bring her back to reality. Possibly with force.

When the bell rang for lunch Rachel stayed glued to her seat and Quinn made her way over to her, intent on dragging her out of her reverie whether she liked it or not.

"What is it today? Something big, something..."

"Rachel," Quinn said sternly.

It went unnoticed and Rachel's eyes stayed as glazed as ever. She tried again.

"Berry, stop this, there's nothing special that's going to go on today."

Again, she was ignored. She didn't really want to say this next thing because she had gotten out of the habit a long time ago, but the girl was starting to annoy her and, as much as she hated admitting it, Quinn wanted the normal Rachel back.

"Man Hands! Get your ass out of that chair and stop talking to yourself. We're going to lunch."

That did the trick. The brunette levelled a glare at her.

"Thank you so much for that lovely insult, Quinn. It's good to know that I can count on you to knock me down a peg whenever I seem to have too much self-esteem," Quinn winced at that but Rachel went on, "You can go to lunch by yourself. I can't have any distractions because if I miss a vision of the danger that lies ahead and someone gets needlessly hurt I don't know how I'll be able to forgive myself."

She looked deadly serious. Rachel was really... intense about all this.

"Um okay, we don't have to go to the cafeteria but I think Ms Lawrence wants us to get out of the classroom."

The teacher had been giving the two pointed looks that screamed "get out of this damn classroom so I can go chain-smoke in the parking lot".

Rachel sighed.

"Fine."

She picked up her books and walked out the room, only to sit down on a bench right outside of it and continue to stare into space. This did not ease Quinn's concern.

"Oookay, we're doing this then? I guess I'll just..."

She joined Rachel on the bench and waited for her to realise that Quinn was trying to be nice to her and that her fantasies about befriending Quinn were just a conversation away (until the blonde was sure that Rachel was once again sane, at which time she would continue their previous non-relationship). However, Rachel didn't seem to realise the great opportunity before her.

Quinn shrugged and reached into her backpack to get her packed lunch out. She ate her sandwich and drank her bottled water in silence because Rachel wasn't even muttering anymore. She chose to look over the few math problems that were due tomorrow and finished them easily enough. Afterwards, she dug into her backpack once more and weakly offered the brunette some wheat crackers she had packed in her lunch, but she was ignored once more.

Of course she was.

Quinn wasn't used to being ignored. Maybe it was the crackers. Maybe they weren't vegan or something? What even went into crackers? Wheat flour? Water? As she mused on this, suddenly Rachel stood up.

"Rachel? Are you going to the bathroom or something?"

The blank expression had fallen off of the girl's face, replaced by a look that seemed to be a mixture of wonder and horror.

"I saw it... Quinn, I saw it!"

"No, Rachel, you didn't. Why don't you just sit-"

"I have to go warn everyone! Be on standby with your car."

And before Quinn had the chance to stop her, Rachel rushed off, leaving her books behind. Swearing mildly, she picked up the forgotten books and tried to go after her but for someone who was so short Rachel was surprisingly quick when she wanted to be. Must have been the long, toned legs. Not that Quinn had looked.

Feeling a little lost, Quinn tossed Rachel's books into her own bag and started wandering aimlessly. Maybe she _should_ go to her car because she knew the diva would end up there. Plus the next class was cancelled for a school-wide assembly in the gym so it wasn't as if she would be missing anything important.

Wait a minute.

She stopped her wandering as a thought occurred to her.

Since when was it her job to look after Berry, of all people? It wasn't Quinn's fault that the girl was unstable. She should get Mercedes or Finn to chase after her, since they were her actual friends.

"Attention students of McKinley High! This is an announcement of grave import!" Rachel Berry's voice boomed through the school's speaker system.

Oh sweet Jesus.

Everyone in the hall was stopping their activities to listen, looking confused as to why one of the Glee losers was making an announcement.

"This is Rachel Berry, psychic extraordinaire, here to inform you that you must all evacuate immediately. You and your loved ones need to get to higher ground because Lima is going to suffer a flood. I don't know how soon, but it will be within the day, so please leave- Hey! No, this is important!" There were sounds of a struggle as Rachel was wrestled away from the intercom system.

"Attention students, disregard the previous message. All students are now to go to the gym for the mandatory assembly. Any students found leaving school grounds without excuse will be penalised," Figgins voice now warned them.

A couple of kids groaned, but everyone started making their way towards the gym instead of evacuating like Rachel asked them to. Passing by the Principal's office, Quinn looked through the window and saw Figgins giving a cowed looking Rachel a talking to. Then the man turned to the secretary and started telling her something. She caught the end of it as he opened the door to the office, presumably on his way to the assembly.

"-not let her leave before her fathers get here."

Rachel looked out the window and saw Quinn. She seemed to be begging with her eyes for Quinn to do something. But really, a flood in Lima? How was she supposed to believe that even if she trusted Rachel when she said she was psychic?

"Miss Fabray, you will be joining us in the gymnasium, yes?"

Quinn looked from Figgins to Rachel's pleading face, then back to Figgins.

"Uh, yes sir," she mumbled, before joining the crowd.

Why did she feel like she had just betrayed Rachel?

She was just doing what she had done from the start, which was not believe in Berry's little psychic story. Trying to shrug off the odd guilt, she took a seat in the bleachers

Today's assembly turned out to be one designed to show the kids that they could achieve anything when they put their minds to it. There were five motivational speakers in all and each took turns telling their life stories, which seemed to all involve crime or drugs before they decided to turn their lives around. And after each told their story they karate chopped cement blocks, because that made them hip with the kids. Quinn was only half-listening to the speakers. She needed little motivation to leave this town and do something after graduation.

She vaguely wondered how much trouble Rachel was going to get in for hijacking the PA system. Probably a slap on the wrist. This school was a bit of a joke when it came to punishment of student misconduct.

A better question was how far Berry was going to take this 'psychic' thing and why, for that matter, she was doing it in the first place. Rachel had always been prone to dramatics, but this went above and beyond the usual Rachel Berry performance.

Maybe she was still upset over the Finn situation and this was her way of getting his attention, whether she was conscious of it being an act or not.

Quinn really hoped it wasn't that because she'd like to think that Rachel had more self-respect than that. Plus, it would make Quinn feel terrible since Finn was still after her all the time.

Was it because she wasn't getting enough solos in Glee or something? It felt like she had been getting quite a few songs lately though...

As her thoughts roamed, so did her eyes, drifting inexplicably towards the gym doors that lead outside.

It couldn't be... was that water seeping under the door?

She wasn't the only one that had noticed. Sue marched over to the door and violently kicked it open. The gym was filled with sounds of the full-blown rainstorm that was raging and a rush of water that had been held back by the door now rolled into the room freely.

"The next great flood is upon us! Run to your arks!" Sue yelled.

To say there was a panic would almost be an understatement. It was pure pandemonium.

Quinn was being pushed and shoved every which way and it took everything she had to prevent herself from getting knocked off the bleachers entirely. Someone's elbow caught her sharply in the ribcage and she felt the wind get knocked out of her. After much battling, she managed to get out of the bleachers and into the crush of students piling out of the gym.

She needed to call her mom before she did anything else, to make sure she was safe.

A nearby football player nearly knocked her to the ground but she didn't quite feel like getting trampled today so she righted herself and continued on.

What the hell were you supposed to do in a flood? Oh right, like Rachel said, get to higher ground.

Rachel.

Quinn stopped herself on the way towards the parking lot and doubled back to the principal's office, swerving around the students still mobbing the hallways. Rachel was still there, looking unnerved by the mayhem the flood had caused. She was standing frozen, mouth gaping like Finn when someone asks him where the library is. Quinn rolled her eyes and grabbed her by the forearm.

"Hey, you were the one that said it was going to happen, quit looking so surprised. Now let's go, your getaway car awaits."

The brunette nodded dazedly and let Quinn lead her out of the office and into the crowded halls. They made towards the parking lot, with the blonde shoving anyone that got too rough or too close out of their way. They got outside and the rain and wind whipped at them furiously. Finally they got to Quinn's car and they quickly got in, now sopping wet from the little time spent outside. Securing her seatbelt, she turned to Rachel.

"So, you have a plan, right? Where to?"

The diva gave her a slight smile.

"I may know exactly what route to take, yes."

Good thing Rachel was navigating because Quinn could hardly see for all the rain. Somehow the girl knew exactly what way they should take to avoid flooded streets. Rachel didn't want to make the mistake of driving into a pool of water that was much deeper than expected because that's how cars get swept away, she explained to Quinn. The ex-cheerio didn't think that things were quite at the point where her car could get swept away, given enough time maybe, but not yet. She didn't say that to Rachel though, she just let her talk her through the process.

In the end they drove up to a spot overlooking the town and parked. Quinn let out a relieved sigh. Situations like this always got her so wound up, even though she was the type of person that was able to keep her head when dealing with it. The opposite seemed to be true for Rachel. She looked to her right and saw that the girl was the perfect image of calm.

Rachel's hair was wet and loose strands were sticking to her face. She sent Quinn an exhilarated smile. She leaned back and set her feet up on the dash, putting her smooth, surprisingly long legs on display. The brunette was, of course, wearing her usual too-short skirt and now it was starting to ride up dangerously.

"You make an exceptional getaway driver, Quinn Fabray."

Rachel needed to stop smiling at Quinn like that.

"Get your legs... feet off my dash," She demanded.

"Get your eyes off my legs," Rachel countered.

She must have said it spontaneously, teasingly, but it had done the trick. Quinn was now staring straight out of the windshield at the pounding rain, determined not to even glance at her. Laughing slightly, Rachel lowered her feet and started digging through her bag.

"Here."

Quinn tore her eyes away from the windshield and saw that she was being offered a towel.

"Thanks," she said, taking it.

She dabbed at her hair distractedly and saw Rachel draw another towel out of her bag and do the same.

"Wait, when did you get that bag?"

"Oh, I might have gone to my locker to get the supply kit I made last night before I went to make that announcement. Just some simple things I thought might be useful in an emergency. Would you care for a vegan, additive-free granola bar?"

Rachel was looking at her so expectantly that she just nodded and took the wax-paper covered bar offered. The diva hummed happily as she munched her own bar.

This was kind of weird, but kind of nice at the same time.

"Are you cold? Do you want me to turn up the heat?" Quinn asked her.

The brunette shook her head.

"No, I'm fine."

There was a lull and the blonde remembered that she needed to call her mom still. She did so now. Rachel, of course, had already talked to her parents because she had a bit of a head start on Quinn. Her mother was naturally worried and had called her phone three times already, unbeknownst to Quinn. After reassuring her mom that she was alright, with a friend (she noticed Rachel trying to hide a smile at the comment), and wouldn't be moving from the spot until it was safe to do so, she was able to say goodbye (I love you, I'll see you soon, no really goodbye).

"So, do you believe me now?"

The look on Rachel's face at that moment could only be described as obnoxiously smug. Quinn felt a twinge of annoyance and the urge to wipe that look off her face.

"Absolutely not."

That did the trick. Rachel looked dismayed.

"What? Why not?"

"A few reasons, actually. First of all your psychic 'vision' didn't seem to kick in until about an hour before the flood started becoming noticeable. Second of all, there was all this snow melting and the rain has been coming down like nobody's business, it doesn't take a genius to guess flooding might happen. And finally, because psychics don't exist. Therefore you are not psychic."

A smile was playing on Rachel's face. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Whatever you say, Quinn. One of these days you're going to believe me."

She was digging around in that bag of hers again.

"Do you want to play cards?" She asked, holding up a deck.

"Sure..."

Might as well, right? If they were going to be stuck in this car for a while.

"I only know how to play Go-fish, though," Rachel informed her.

Quinn felt like this was going to be a _long_ wait.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Episode 15 happened and it was hard getting inspired for Faberry when Brittana was on. But anyway thanks to all my readers for your reviews, favourites, alerts. This chapter contains a very special typo for my tumblr wife (as opposed to my FF dot net wife).

* * *

"While everyone in Lima is still recovering from the small flood that occurred earlier in the week, we here at WOHN have heard a story about a local teenager that might just make you believe in psychics. James Morin has the story."

"Thanks Rod. I'm here with sixteen year old Rachel Berry who has caused quite a stir at William McKinley High School when she announced to the entire school over the PA system about the imminent flood over an hour before the school was actually evacuated. Rachel, is this true?"

Rachel put on her best show face for the camera, all pearly whites and positivity.

"Why yes, it is, James. I've always known that I had a sixth sense but now it has developed so much that I have premonitions about important events such as the flood."

"And is it true that no one at your school believed in your story?"

The brunette nodded her head solemnly.

"Yes, no one believed me then, but now that they've seen my capabilities they're changing their tune. Oh wait just a moment."

Rachel took the opportunity to open the umbrella she had been holding at her side.

"You might want to get under this, Mr Morin."

Looking a little perplexed, he looked up at the clear sky and then back to Rachel.

"Well thank you Rachel, but it's not supposed to rain to-" before he could finish a few drops landed on his face.

James chuckled and stepped under her umbrella. Suddenly the rain started coming down in full force.

"Rachel, have you ever considered a career in meteorology?"

The shot was back to the studio.

"Careful James, you don't want to put our weatherman out of a job."

Rod and Angela laughed heartily at their news desk. Quinn turned off the TV and childishly threw the remote across the room. She huffed and folded her arms.

What was _wrong_ with everyone in this town? Was Quinn seriously the only person left that didn't think Rachel had special powers? Now the whole school was fawning over Rachel, and apparently the rest of Lima would be soon to follow.

After Quinn dropped Rachel off with her dads last week (and waved off their thanks "for saving our darling little star") she had been thinking surprisingly warm thoughts about the girl. Friendly thoughts, almost. Rachel had been good company while waiting in the car. When not mentioning the psychic thing or Broadway or Barbra Streisand the brunette was pretty bearable, maybe even fun. Quinn felt bad that she had not taken the time to get to know the diva in the past, they actually had a surprising amount of things in common. They both loved the movie Some Like it Hot (and both knew the fact that Marilyn Monroe had been drunk for the entirety of its filming), both despised the Twilight franchise (which surprised Quinn because honestly, Berry seemed like a Team Edward kind of girl), and both girls believed without a doubt that Artie and Mr Schue must run into each other when shopping for sweater vests.

So when the last gallon of water had been pumped out of the school and it was deemed ready for the young minds of Lima once again, Quinn had stepped into McKinley intent upon being friendly to Rachel and, though perhaps not accepting of it, she was at least going to be tolerant of the girl's supposed psychic ability. She had been intending to do this, at least. But as soon as she made her way into the crowded hallway she found that these goals were a bit too lofty for the reality of the situation.

There was a mass of students crushed together, they didn't seem to be moving to any location, but rather enveloping something, or _someone_. They were agitated, desperate, excited. Some poor suckers on the outer edges of the confusion tried desperately to press closer. It was a mess, really, much like the chaos at the assembly the other day. The kids seemed to all be talking at once, saying anything and everything, but within the buzz of too many voices blended together there was one word in particular that seemed to be repeated, over and over.

Rachel.

Quinn felt her features settle into an automatic frown. What had Berry gotten herself into this time?

She could have walked away but something nagged at her. She _needed_ to know what this was about. She _needed_ to know that this wasn't about Rachel's stupid clairvoyance. She _needed_ to know that Rachel wasn't being crushed to death under the feet of some dumb-as-a-rock football player. Because they were sort of friendly to each other now. And without Rachel they would probably lose Regionals. And stuff. No other reasons.

Tentatively Quinn stepped closer to the large group. How the hell was she going to do this? Girls she could do (her inner Santana snickered) but she didn't exactly have the muscle to push away all the large guys in the crowd, many of whom she recognised as belonging to various sports teams. Lightly, she nudged into the throng, uttering a much too soft "Excuse me". A dark haired boy at her side spun on her angrily.

"Lay off, bitch!" he said, before turning back and calling "Rachel! Will I become a professional snowboarder?"

Quinn soon found that she was more than capable of shoving boys twice her size around with the right motivation.

It was impressive actually.

As she pushed a hockey player into a couple of his teammates, taking them all down, she briefly considered whether she should perhaps join a martial art or something. The thought was erased when she finally bullied her way into the center of the group, revealing a frazzled and frightened Rachel. The fear on her face seemed to dissolve into surprise when she saw who had been so determined to reach her.

"Quinn?"

"Why are you surprised, didn't you know it was going to be me?"

The brunette just continued to gape at her so Quinn rolled her eyes and started dragging her away, much to the students' dismay. Fighting to get away from a crowd determined to keep what they saw as their own personal fortune teller was almost as hard as fighting to get out of a crowd that was determined not to drown. So maybe Quinn had to stomp on a foot or two and roughly elbow a few people and perhaps a curse or four was shouted (by both her and the morons that got in her way) but, more importantly, she got the shorter girl away from everyone.

Not trusting her fellow students, the blonde ushered Rachel into a quieter hallway before turning to look at her again. Visibly relaxing now, the diva touched her forearm and looked at her with plentiful gratitude.

"Thank you Quinn, it seems as though you are once again my saviour."

In response the blonde mumbled something like "No problem" because this whole thing was embarrassing, okay? She never wanted to be Berry's knight in shining armour, she just didn't want the girl to get accidentally suffocated by gullible losers.

"So let me see if I have this correct. All of those people were flocking to you like dementors to Harry Potter because they think you can tell them their future?"

Rachel giggled slightly and Quinn blushed. She was flustered, she didn't normally give away how nerdily into Harry Potter she was.

"Ah, well yes, of a fashion. Some of them want to talk to their dead relatives and family pets, though I insisted that I don't hold séances, nor do I speak dog or cat, or hamster."

"Someone seriously asked you to talk to their hamster?"

"He said it had something to do with coke and menthos resulting in said hamster's untimely death, which in turn lead to the owner's deep remorse."

"Ah, I see how your gift is providing so much needed help to the community," Quinn said, her sarcasm so emphasized that it was almost palpable.

Ignoring her, Rachel went on, "But anyway, I told them that they would just have to send an email with their query in to the official 'Rachel Berry psychic hour' website in time for the next broadcast. However many of them were adamant that they did not want to wait. And then you came for me, thankfully, and so now I am free to go to my class in peace."

Giving the gobsmacked blonde a last nod, she started striding purposefully towards her class.

"Wait, what broadcast? What psychic hour? What's going on?"

Halfway down the hallway already, Rachel turned around and flashed her a smile.

"You ask a lot of questions. All will be revealed at lunch."

Then she turned back around and Quinn was left looking at that damn argyle, stubbornly short skirt.

The blonde decided that the reason she despised argyle so very much was because it had a habit of drawing her eyes. Whether it was an argyle (form-fitting) shirt, an argyle (short, short) skirt, or argyle knee-highs (drawn up long, shapely legs), it didn't matter, every time she could not tear her eyes away. Rachel obviously needed to stop wearing it all the time.

* * *

Quinn didn't really need to go into speculation about the Rachel Berry Psychic Hour because everyone in her classes already knew all about it. Apparently it was going to be a show made by the AV club, featuring Rachel Berry's psychic talents and it would be live streamed to monitors in the cafeteria at lunch. Of course Jacob Ben Israel had headed the whole operation, insisting that the students of McKinley need their daily dose of Rachel Berry. Jacob had set up a page for the show on his blog, it included an address where you could email your psychic-related questions to Rachel, which she would later answer on the show. With the facts out of the way, the conversations soon dissolved into conjecture.

"Rachel Berry? Oh yeah, she's psychic all right. Her whole family is. When they're in a room together they just communicate telepathically, which is why she talks so much at school."

"I hear the government is trying to design a test that she can't cheat on. But nothing works."

"I heard that she parted the water during the flood with her mind so that she and Quinn could drive through hassle-free."

"Do you know how idiotic that sounds? She's not _Moses_," Quinn snapped at Kevin Fischer, an honour roll student who should have known better.

He shrunk in his seat at that but she didn't feel bad. These guesses were getting a little too Finn-like for her taste. Sadly, the speculation did not end there, it continued on throughout her classes. Worse still, people were starting to ask her about Rachel. Completely ignoring the fact that Quinn was probably the worst person you could ask for information about Berry.

"Quinn, is it true that Rachel is back with Finn Hudson because she told him that she saw them getting married in the future?"

Wait, Rachel was back with Finn? A well of annoyance bubbled up in Quinn. Why would she do that when he's been nothing but a jerk lately? This just proved that Rachel was not psychic, because if she was then she would know that Finn Hudson was nothing but trouble and didn't deserve her.

Quinn gave a contemptuous look to the girl that asked her the question.

"I don't know. I'm not her best friend or anything. Either ask her yourself or quit being so nosy."

The girl shivered at her glacial tone and pretended to become suddenly engrossed in her textbook.

That didn't stop others from asking her annoying questions though, so by lunch time Quinn was nice and irritated. She was so irritated that she wanted to avoid the cafeteria at all costs because she suspected that seeing The Rachel Berry Psychic Hour (oh god was it really going to be a whole hour long?) might have brought on one of her rages. And she kind of liked Rachel now, so she really didn't want to risk the chance that she would end up taking her anger over the whole thing out on the diva.

So when the bell rang she went in the opposite direction from the cafeteria, determined to do some homework to take her mind off of things.

"Not so fast, Fabray. Where are you headed to?"

Santana stood in front of her, a hand on her hip and a cocky smirk on her face. Brittany was by her side, looking oblivious and adorable as ever.

"I have... important... things," Quinn tried, holding her books close to her body and wondering how fast Santana would catch her if she broke out into a run.

"No you don't," the Latina dismissed.

The shorter blonde bit her lip nervously and that was enough to send Santana into action. Santana looped her arm around Quinn's tightly and instructed Brittany to do the same. At least Brittany looked a bit apologetic when she did it. They sandwiched Quinn and forced her to turn around, moving towards the cafeteria.

"No guys, quit it. I don't want to go there!"

"Why, Quinn? Don't you want to hang out with me and San?"

"Yeah Princess, are you too good to watch me and Brittany make out at the lunch table? Because last time it happened you paid a lot more attention than a straight girl should."

Santana motherfucking Lopez (she didn't usually swear, even in her mind but this time Santana deserved it). The girl knew exactly what to say to both piss Quinn off and make her question herself at the same time.

"Shut up. I'm straight."

The brunette snorted and Brittany muffled a giggle.

Et tu,Brittany?

"It's Rachel... she's really pissing me off with this psychic thing so I don't need to see a whole show dedicated to it."

"Why are you pissed? Didn't you two ride off into the sunset together?" Santana asked.

"We were just getting to higher ground! And I promised her I would give her a ride if she was right."  
"She was right, Q. Everyone knows that now. Hell, even _I_ think that she's got some kind of gift."

Rachel even had Santana believing her now. Quinn made an exasperated face.

"No! She just predicted one thing happening an hour before it happened, and she was just making a guess. It's a coincidence that it actually happened."

"So you like Rachel, huh Quinn? But you don't want to see her because you're deep in the river ("She means denial," Santana added). It's okay, you don't have to pretend that you're angry at her for being psychic," Brittany told her in what she must have thought was a soothing voice.

"Wha- why would you even... me and- huh? No! Nonononono! Never. I don't like her why would you...?"

Brittany patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay, let it all out."

If it had been Santana saying these things, Quinn would have no qualms against tearing her a new one for suggesting that she had _feelings_ –romantic ones –for Berry, but this was Brittany so she chose the next best option –retreat.

"Well if you don't mind, I think I need to be in Siberia right now," Quinn said before struggling valiantly against the strong hold she was being held in.

Brittany was surprisingly strong, which Quinn should have remembered, really. After all, she was made to listen to stories of Santana's many sexual escapades that involved Brittany holding up all her weight while doing unholy things to her.

Finally, they manhandled Quinn into the cafeteria and set her down in a seat close to a TV screen. Brittany and Santana sat together instead of sandwiching her, opting to go into their private little world that no one else was allowed in. Before she started completely ignoring Quinn, the brunette gave her a stern look.

"Stay," she ordered.

Then she turned around and started whispering in her girlfriend's ear, resting one hand possessively over the girl's thigh. Quinn rolled her eyes and resigned herself to staying where she was. There was a loud murmur of excitement in the room that immediately quieted when the TV screen came on. There was Rachel, sitting in front of a desk and giving her usual over-enthusiastic smile.

"Hello everyone watching. This is The Rachel Berry Psychic Hour, where I, Rachel Berry, answer your questions about your future and give you psychic advice, live on air. Now let's go to the first question."

She turned to the laptop set on the desk.

"This one comes from someone who doesn't want me to use their name on air. She asks 'Rachel, are my boyfriend and I related somehow? We're both Asian and have the same last name. I don't think we are related but I don't want to accidentally find out that he's actually a cousin I never knew about.'"

She removed her eyes from the screen and gave a reassuring smile to the camera.

"Well I can say that without a doubt that you two are not related. If you had been I would have let you know as soon as I found out you were an item. So don't worry and continue to enjoy your boyfriend's abs."

Quinn sighed in annoyance. Did Rachel really think that she was keeping Tina's identity secret? There was bound to be some drama in Glee club later.

"Next question is from Brett Levitt, he asks 'Will I ever be a professional snowboarder?' And the answer to that one is no. Keep doing it if you enjoy it but make sure you don't bomb your SATs."

The blonde heard a strangled cry. She turned to look to the other side of the room and saw the guy that had called her a bitch looking utterly devastated. It was a little sad, seeing the look in his eyes as his dreams were broken.

Oh well. At least Rachel told him to study.

The diva went through a few more questions that Quinn didn't pay much attention to. She was more focused on the silk shawl that Rachel had decided to drape around her shoulders. Did she think it would lend her more credibility as a psychic or something? It didn't really. It just kind of looked weird on her.

"This one's from F. Hudson." Rachel's eyes narrowed the slightest bit.

Quinn turned to her side and sent an alarmed look to Santana and Brittany, who just looked amused and confused, respectively. She snapped her attention back to the screen.

He wasn't going to say anything stupid, was he?

"It says 'Dear Rach. I like that you're psychic and stuff. I've always believed in you,'" Quinn caught the incredulous look on the brunette's face before she continued.

"'I really like this girl because she's blonde and pretty but she won't answer my calls or go out on a date with me. Is she playing hard to get? What should I do to make her my girl?'"

Quinn froze as almost every eye in the cafeteria was drawn to her. She sunk in her seat and reddened to the roots of her hair. She heard Santana snickering at her side and Brittany quietly chastising her.

"Okay F, here's some advice for you. She's not playing hard to get. Is it so hard to believe that she just doesn't want to be with you? So stop calling, stop texting, stop driving by her house to drop off flower bouquets and teddy bears that are programmed to say 'I wuv you beary much'. It isn't meant to be."

Her usual show face had morphed into a stern look.

"And with that it seems as though I'm out of time. Thank you for tuning in to The Rachel Berry Psychic Hour, McKinley High, hope to see you all soon."

Quinn felt a wave of relief and gratefulness wash over her. This was the best thing that has happened to her all week (which wasn't saying much considering the week had been pretty mediocre so far). There was the annoying possibility that Rachel just said all that to get Finn for herself again. But honestly Quinn was just hopeful that Finn would do exactly what Rachel told him to and stop calling, texting, giving her teddy bears that are programmed to...

Wait. How did Berry know about that?

Well even if she was a stalker, Quinn still owed her some thanks. Bidding Brittany and Santana a quick goodbye (and receiving only the slightest of acknowledgements in return), the blonde made her way to the A/V room. Or she tried to, at least because now she was in front of an even bigger crowd than the one she encountered in the morning.

The door opened and Rachel came out... with Brad, the Glee club's piano player. That was weird. Now that Quinn thought about it, she didn't think that she had seen him away from a piano... ever. Without it be just kind of looked like one of those stoic, creepy guys with beards that turn out to be cereal killers.

"Now if you follow my advice Cat will be begging you to take her back. Trust me, Brad. You two are meant to be together," Rachel put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he nodded morosely.

She finally looked at the buzzing crowd in front of her.

"Oh dear. Um. Adoring fans, I would very much like to give each one of you my autograph but I'm afraid there's just not enough time before my classes start. Thank you for your support and be sure to email me your questions."

She attempted to push through the crowd, to no avail.

"I'm sorry but I really do need to go to class."

"And I really need to know where my mom hid my cell phone after she grounded me, Berry," a demanding sophomore told her.

"Rude. Let me through."

She flailed against the human wall ineffectually. Quinn supposed that this was her time to step in. Rolling her eyes at Rachel's display, she started bossing everyone around her.

"Let me through, she needs to get to class. Yeah, that thing you go to so you don't end up believing that psychics are real."

She bumped a few people off-kilter and eventually wormed her way through the crowd to Rachel. The brunette was once again pleasantly surprised to see her.

"Hello there Quinn, did you enjoy my show?"

"Class," the blonde reminded her.

"Oh yes, that. Thank you. I truly appreciate your escort," Rachel tentatively grabbed Quinn's arm.

Quinn let the diva loop her arm around her own. It was an innocent act but it made the blonde's stomach clench with unexplainable nerves and made her face heat up.

Rachel was so aggravating. Quinn really should have left her to her own devices. But instead she just muttered a gruff "It's fine," and lead Rachel through the mass of students.

"Rachel! Rachel! Talk to us, please!"

She was really starting to question the quality of education this school was giving them if these desperate, gullible kids were the norm.

"Get away from her, she's not actually psychic! Stop making a scene."

People were slowly starting to understand that you shouldn't get in Quinn Fabray's way, but there were still a few that didn't get it.

"Thank you for offering your services as a bodyguard, Quinn. It is much appreciated," she heard Rachel say.

"What? I'm not... hey, I said back off!"

The girl that had been getting a bit rough leapt away as though burned. Finally through the crowd (hopefully for the last time that day), Quinn stomped off towards her class with Rachel in tow. Before heading into the room Quinn stopped abruptly, causing the brunette to bump into her.

"Sorry. Oh and um thanks for saying that stuff to Finn. On your show I mean."

The blonde was a little mortified at how awkward she was sounding, but it didn't seem that Rachel noticed.

"So you did watch my show! You're very welcome and I'm so glad that you're warming up to the reality of my abilities."

Quinn grimaced.

"Really Berry? What you said to him had nothing to do with your mistaken belief that you're psychic. Everyone knows that Finn's been after me and that I'm not into it. You don't need to be psychic to know that."

The bell rang but neither girl moved. Rachel was looking at her a bit curiously.

"You're rather stubborn, Quinn Fabray."

"Almost as much as you, Rachel Berry."

There was another pause before Rachel spoke again.

"Then how did I know about the texts? About him dropping by your house?"

Okay maybe Quinn didn't have all of the answers, but she was not going to let Rachel know that.

"I don't know, maybe because you're still in love with Finn and you're keeping tabs on him or something?"

Rachel let out one loud laugh of disbelief. A passing teacher glared at them and they both shrunk under the gaze.

"No, Quinn. I have not been keeping tabs on Finn and you. I am not interested in Finn anymore, as he has proved himself to be hypocritical and duplicitous. Anyway, we should be getting to class."

Quinn didn't know why, but there was something about all this psychic business that made her not want to let go.

"Skip it, we need to talk."

There was nothing in the way that she said it that would make Rachel think that it was anything other than a command, but the diva still resisted. Verbally, at least because she let Quinn lead her through the hallways.

"No, really we should go to class. Think about our education!"

Quinn stopped them outside an empty classroom.

"And what about your education? What good will it do to you if you still think you have powers?"

"For the last time, I do have powers. I am psychic. It's not my fault you're in denial," Rachel told her, petulantly.

"I am _not_ in denial. About anything. Now we're going to go in here and talk this through until one of us caves, all right?" Quinn said, reaching for the handle.

"You don't want to go in there."

"What, why?"

"It goes against my delicate sensibilities to explain exactly what is going on in there."

"Quit acting like you know everything. There is nothing in here that I don't want to see."

Rachel looked amused by that. Quinn didn't know why exactly because she knew for a fact that this room was always empty around this time.

"Oh really? That's interesting. Well in that case what's stopping you?" the brunette's tone was almost goading.

Quinn flushed angrily. She was so sick of being talked down to by Rachel. Just because you think you're psychic doesn't mean you have to act like a know-it-all.

"Nothing! I'm going to open it right now."

"If you really want to."

"I do!"

Quinn reached for the handle and threw the door open.

"Shit!"

She was frozen in shocked horror as she was met with the sight of Santana and Brittany in midst of what Santana and Brittany do best.

At least they were mostly still clothed.

They looked like deer caught in headlights. Slowly, Brittany took her mouth away from Santana's neck and drew away a small distance, while Santana withdrew her hand from inside the blonde's jeans. The three girls were paralysed from the sheer awkwardness of the situation, while Rachel just watched with amusement.

"Told you."

Quinn spun angrily to Rachel and glared.

"Shut up Berry."

"Shut the door, Quinn."

"Yeah, shut the damn door!" Santana seconded.

Quinn was happy to oblige. When they got a safe distance away from the room she caught the diva looking triumphant.

"So... I'm-"

"-about as accurate as a fortune cookie."

Rachel seemed to expect this.

"Should I follow all my predictions with a well-timed 'between the sheets', then? I just recently heard of that one."

Quinn looked at her blankly.

"Oh Quinn, it's really very simple. When you read out your fortunes from the cookie you're supposed to add the phrase 'between the sheets' to lend it a new, sexual connotation. For example, 'Lima will suffer a flood... between the sheets'," Rachel grinned, apparently taken by how cleverly amusing she was.

After catching Brittany and Santana... doing what they had been doing, Quinn really didn't need Rachel spouting off innuendos like that one.

"Okay, Rachel. You want to prove to me you're psychic? Give me a reading, all-seeing one. What do you see?" Quinn asked sarcastically.

Rachel raised an eyebrow before nodding her head in acquiescence and closing her eyes. She was looking all-too serene, a loose lock of hair curling around her cheek. Berry actually looked pretty nice today. Her outfit didn't have a random animal anywhere. The sweater was form-fitting and the skirt, well... was very typical of Rachel Berry. Not that she had been looking anywhere besides Rachel's face.

Quinn felt almost mesmerised, seeing the pink of Rachel's tongue sweep her lips lightly as the brunette furrowed her brow in concentration. She wondered if Rachel was a good kisser. Then again, the girl was a perfectionist so she must have been.

Suddenly Rachel reached her hands palm-out in front of her. It almost looked like she was going to grope Quinn. And now the room felt a bit too warm. Before she could ask Rachel what the hell she was doing, the diva's eyes snapped open. She dropped her hands and looked at Quinn with a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

"You're aroused. Why is that?" Rachel stated point-blank.

Quinn wanted to scream, slap Rachel, and crawl into a hole to die all at once. But at the moment she could barely manage to get even a single polysyllabic word out of her gaping mouth.

"I... I-I...!"

Rachel smiled at her encouragingly.

"Yes...?"

"I'm not _aroused_! What the hell is your problem? Who even says that?"

Rachel blinked in bewilderment before coming to a realisation.

"Oh yes, I'm terribly sorry to have said that, Quinn. It was tactless of me to mention your aroused state, regardless of the validity of the statement. Considering your discomfort with discussing sexual matters I will make sure to keep my knowledge of your arousal to myself in the future."

If Quinn thought she wanted to crawl into a hole before then now she wanted to blast herself into the nothingness of space. At least then she wouldn't have to continue this conversation.

"Stop saying aroused! I'm not aroused, which you would know if you were actually psychic, but face it Rachel, you're just not."

"Well since we're already talking about it, what is it that suddenly triggered that reaction in you? Were you having thoughts about Sam or Finn? Because I believe that you're better off not dating either one of them."

"No... it wasn't them," Quinn grudgingly admitted.

And then she realised that she had just admitted that Rachel had been right. Exasperated, she mopped a hand over her face. Rachel smiled slightly in victory.

"That's good then. I couldn't get a good read on the source of your arousal. Was it any boy in particular? Maybe someone in Glee club?"

Did she know how perverted she sounded in asking Quinn which guy made her horny?

And when Rachel said the word 'boy' Quinn couldn't quite look her in the eye. She chose to remain silent because maybe this conversation would go away if she ignored it.

Soon, though, the blonde heard a soft "Oh" come from Rachel and she looked up to meet her eyes.

"Soooo... any _girl_ in particular?" Rachel asked her with a wide smile.

Quinn felt a jolt of panic run through her from head to toe. She fixed the diva with a glare that could peel paint.

"Not psychic, just _stupid_."

Then she stomped away from a stunned Rachel Berry. She had to stop herself from breaking out into a run.

What the hell just happened?


	4. Chapter 4

Um so it's been a few months since I last updated… There's not really much I can say except for I really dropped the ball on this one, sorry! I hope you guys at least enjoy this last chapter.

* * *

"Quinn!"

"Get away from me," The blonde warned, clutching her books tightly to her chest as she speed-walked to class.

Rachel, despite countless hours spent on the elliptical, struggled to keep up with her, working those little legs furiously. The sight made Quinn's all-encompassing aggravation lessen a bit. She internally laughed at the effort it took Berry to walk at a slightly faster than normal pace, but it only lasted a moment. Then she went back to trying to get away from the girl at her side. She picked up the pace slightly and heard a groan from the diva. But it seemed like she wouldn't quite give up.

"Quinn, I'm sorry! It was entirely inappropriate for me to say that!"

The blonde made a noise of derision but otherwise didn't react.

"It's really none of my business, I shouldn't have even brought the topic up in the first place. Your life isn't mine to scrutinise."

Was it childish to cover her ears and say "lalala, I can't hear you"? Because if Berry kept talking, she was going to drive her to those immature lengths.

"Really, I suppose it was just because I was curious for my own reasons. It was selfish of me."

Quinn stopped abruptly and Rachel knocked into her with a dull thud. Quinn spun around and stared the girl down with a fierce glare.

"Listen to this, Berry. As much you want me to be, I'm not a lesbian. I'm not your white knight, here to save you from being alone for a whole two seconds."

"I never said anything like that, Quinn."

"Don't even interrupt me. You don't know anything about me. You're not psychic so don't even pretend that you can tell that I like girls. What you are is a fraud and I'm not going to rest until everyone else in this school knows it."

Rachel had never looked so small and vulnerable as she did in this moment. But the look in her eye didn't phase Quinn one bit as she spat out her next words.

"I'm going to _ruin_ you."

The diva's mouth fell open at the vicious conviction in the blonde's voice. But she didn't get the chance to respond because before she knew it, Quinn was walking away. Not to their class, but straight out of the school and off to create her plan.

* * *

"Thanks for picking me up, Santana," Quinn chirped as she tried to squeeze her posters into the car without damaging them.

Santana's bloodshot eyes indicated a late night with Brittany, which in turn explained exactly why she had reacted so hostilely to Quinn's early morning call.

"You. Owe. me. Big time, bitch," the brunette glared.

Quinn shivered as she thought of the favours she would be asked to commit, but it would be worth it in the end. So she just got into the car and closed the door. That's when Santana got a good look at one of the posters.

"Holy shit, Q. Don't you think this is overkill?"

At the time that she got the posters printed, she didn't think that getting the words "Rachel Berry: Liar, Fraud, and NOT psychic" printed underneath a picture of Rachel's grinning face was too harsh. But now that even Santana was coming to her rescue, she felt a bit more apprehensive about it.

"No, no, of course it's not! Because it's the truth! And it's important to tell the truth," she reasoned.

"Do you conveniently forget about that motto when you're convincing yourself that you like dick?" Santana snarked.

"Just shut your mouth and drive. I get it, I owe you one. I'll give you a kidney one day."

Santana rolled her eyes and shifted gears. She peeled out of Quinn's driveway like a bat out of hell, just to piss her off.

"So why couldn't you just drive to school yourself? Only losers go to school this early."

"Because I don't want anyone to see my car and connect me to the posters. I'll just put them up and then hide in an empty classroom until more people get there."

"Yes, because no one's going to suspect it was you, because you haven't been running around screaming that Berry isn't psychic for the last few weeks. Oh wait, that's exactly what you've been doing."

"I'm not the only one that doesn't believe her."

"Maybe, but you're the only one that's crawled up her ass about it."

"That's because she thinks she knows things about me, about everyone. But she doesn't! She makes me so mad-"

"That you could just kiss her, right?"

Quinn gritted her teeth while contemplating knocking the grin right off of Santana's face. Her ill-tempered friend didn't seem to mind the early wakeup call if it meant that she could get under Quinn's skin.

When they arrived, Quinn practically kicked the car door open in ill humour.

"Hey, Psycho, easy on my car. Just because you're repressed doesn't mean I'll let you damage my ride," Santana jabbed.

The blonde rolled her eyes and struggled out the car with her unwieldy load. Her friend didn't follow.

"Hey, aren't you coming?"

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"You just asked me for a ride and I delivered. Now I'm going back to my house to have awesome morning sex with my girlfriend, like I'm sure you would love to do with Berry. In fact, I think I'll even skip my first few classes and roll in at lunch time just to see what kind of bullshit drama you'll start with Rachel."

Fine. If Santana was going to be a bitch about it, Quinn didn't want her around.

She would just have to put up the posters herself and imagine how good it will feel when everyone realised that Rachel was a fake, that everything she said was a lie, that Quinn was straight… you know, incontrovertible truths.

* * *

"Who the hell made these posters?"

"That's just sad, making these just to bring someone down."

"Rachel was right about so many things. Like I'm going to believe those were all guesswork!"

Quinn grit her teeth as she passed by yet another set of students scoffing at her posters. A couple of them shot her an accusing glare before ripping the poster in half.

What the hell was their problem? A month ago most of the kids in this school would have laughed and made their own posters (and let me tell you, they would call her a lot worse words than "liar"). And now she was this untouchable saint just because they've found some use for her? That was just sad. Quinn almost felt sorry for Rachel. Almost.

But not really. Because as much as everyone was just using Rachel, she was manipulating them with her lies, in the end making her McKinley's most popular student.

"Rachel! Raaaaachelllll. Rachel!"

It looks like the halls have been blessed with the presence of Queen Berry, if the desperate cries of her lowly vassals was any indication. Quinn turned around and there she was, speed walking and rebuffing her admirers. They paid no heed to her apparent rush, but jostled each other in order to get closer to her.

"Rachel, don't pay attention to those posters! Whoever made them is obviously jealous," one peon insisted.

"_Obviously_," another agreed, obnoxiously.

Rachel, surprisingly, made no eye contact with the ass kissers.

"I _wasn't_ paying attention to them. Until, that is, so many of you continually brought them to my attention," She answered brusquely, not even slowing her pace.

Her eyes were focussed like laser beams onto Quinn. Which is exactly what she should have expected. The diva started to make a beeline towards Quinn, but her followers were still yapping away at her.

"We believe in you, Rachel. We've always believed in you. Some crappy posters aren't going to change that!"

At this point the twenty or so people started moaning about how they love her and how she's so important, so you'd think (or at least Quinn thought) that Berry would be loving all the attention, but it seemed like the opposite was true. She stopped walking and glared at them, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, thank you for your continued support of me," she didn't sound thankful at all, "But I think I'm feeling a vision coming on and I need to have as few people in my general area as possible, to prevent interference. You understand, don't you?"

At that the students leapt away from her, apologizing profusely for interrupting the obviously important premonition she was currently having. They all skittered away to their classes, leaving the hall completely clear, save Rachel and Quinn. Seeing that she was free to go after her target, Rachel did just that.

"Quinn! What on earth is your problem?"

The answer was automatic.

"You."

Rachel sighed wearily.

"As strongly as you feel that I am a fraud, this really is unwarranted. I know I hurt you with what I said the other day, but I thought that we had forged a tentative friendship. Or maybe that was all in my head, because I never thought that you would try to turn me into the school pariah again."

Quinn felt a sudden twinge in her chest that she tried to reassure herself wasn't guilt. It couldn't be. She was right, Rachel was wrong.

"Well… maybe the word 'liar' is a bit harsh since it seems like you actually believe what you're feeding everyone. I'll put 'delusional' on the posters next time," She said casually.

"You can put whatever you like because, as you could see, no one's paying attention to them. I just wish you wouldn't because I like to think that you care about me enough to not try to hurt me," there was that twinge again, maybe Quinn needed to visit the doctor, "Because if you think about it, I could print up posters saying something like 'Quinn Fabray: big lesbian, so says Rachel Berry, psychic extraordinaire' and almost everyone in school would believe me. But I care for you, so I wouldn't-"

Rachel didn't have time to finish.

"Is that a threat, Berry? Of course it is. Trying to slander me so that you won't have anyone casting doubt on your amazing abilities, huh? You make me sick. Telling me we're friends and that you care about me when really you couldn't care less as long as you get to be top dog of the school," Quinn felt like her heart was going to thump right through her rib cage. And have those black spots always been in front of her eyes?

The diva was not cowed by this attack one bit.

"So which is it, Quinn? Am I trying to get you to be my lesbian lover or trying to ruin your reputation? Let me know because obviously I don't have any say in this at all."

The blonde didn't have an answer for her, mostly because she was trying to control her breathing. It seemed to be coming pretty quick. She didn't feel so good.

"Okay then, maybe I do have a chance to say something. One, I'm not going to put up posters, because that would be senselessly cruel. Two, I do care about you, although sometimes I really wonder why. And three, stay out of the east corridor today, I have a bad feeling about it. Please just listen to me this time."

The next thing Quinn knew, Rachel was gone, and she was left to attempt to breathe normally.

* * *

Later, after she had regained her senses she heard the warning again, this time over the PA system.

"Attention students of McKinley high. This is Rachel Berry, of The Rachel Berry Psychic Hour here with an important message. Do not, I repeat, do not enter the east corridor past the gym this afternoon for your own safety. There will be a barricade set up as a reminder. Thank you very much for your caution and enjoy the rest of your school day."

And suddenly it came to her –the most fool-proof plan ever. She had to wait until lunch to set it up, but it was worth it.

She walked into the cafeteria like she owned it. Santana and Brittany came up to her. Santana was probably asking about what she had gotten up to, while Brittany was probably saying something about one of her cats, but Quinn was barely listening. She was on a mission. Brushing past them, she walked to a centre table in the room and gave its occupants a look that clearly said "get out of the way before I skin you alive". She must have been getting a reputation for beating losers down because they scampered away with not so much as a peep of indignation. She stepped up onto the table, making sure not to accidentally lay foot in macaroni salad. It seemed as though every eye in the room was immediately drawn to her by this action alone, but she let out an ear-splitting whistle for good measure. Once she was sure all eyes were on her, she addressed the room.

"Attention students of McKinley, time for an announcement that you should actually listen to. I know you won't believe me when I say this, but Rachel Berry isn't psychic. She's a fraud."

It didn't take long for the room to fill with jeering and boos.

"Wait, just wait! I can prove it!" She shouted over the din.

Slowly the mass of students quieted down to random mumbling. However, the looks of incredulity and derision never left their faces. Quinn swallowed any nerves she had (that's what she decided the twinge was) and continued.

"She'd like you to believe she's psychic and you do, you all gullibly believe her. So now she says stuff like 'don't go into the east corridor for your own safety', which doesn't really tell you anything about what kind of danger might be in there. But you believe her all the same. So now I'm going to prove to you that she's full of shit by spending the whole afternoon in the east corridor and have nothing bad happen to me."

Quinn unceremoniously stepped down from the table. Well aware that she still commanded the room's attention, she practically strutted out of the room, making sure to ignore Santana's attempts to stop her.

She was on a mission.

To her delight, it seemed as though word of said mission was spreading throughout the school. She now had amassed a crowd of curious followers at her heels. Unfortunately, it seemed as though sometimes the message of what exactly she was doing got confused.

"Hey, man, do you know what this is about?" A doofy looking ginger kid asked a guy to his right.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Rachel turned her down for a date so now Fabray's going to go kill herself in the east corridor. I think there's supposed to be some lion from the zoo loose or something."

Just as Quinn was about to show this moron just how wrong he was (she suddenly understood why Santana was so quick to bust out her Lima Heights Adjacent self) she felt her arm being tugged insistently. There was Brittany at her side, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes she's ever seen.

Oh god no. She had to resist, she wasn't Santana for crying out loud.

"Quinn! You can't go there if there's a lion! They're not as cute and cuddly as you think they are. Believe me, I _know_."

Suddenly the fact that Brittany and Santana had been banned from the zoo made so much more sense.

"There's not going to be a lion, B," Quinn assured her.

"What about tigers?"

"No, why would you-"

"And bears? Oh my!"

"There's not going to be anything! It's just a stupid hallway!" She snapped.

It took approximately two nanoseconds for Santana Lopez to lock on target. No one got away with being mean to Brittany. Quinn rolled her eyes, Santana was so predictable.

"Hey Q, take it down a notch or else I'll suffocate you with my twins. I've done it before and it's a slow death."

Quinn didn't react, knowing it would only goad Santana on. But it seemed as though her non-reaction did about the same.

"Although that probably sounds like a good time to you, doesn't it? It would be even better if I was Berry and then we could finally put all this sexual tension to rest."

"If you're going to follow me I'm going to ask that you don't mention such disgusting things. I will tone it down a bit like you asked. I'm sorry Britt," the apology was wooden but Brittany cheered up all the same. And when Brittany was happy, Santana was less prone to provoking Quinn.

The chatting ended (on her part at least) and then she and her spectators arrived at their destination. Everyone came to a dead stop, seeing the empty, eerie hallway (I mean, was it always that eerie? It had to be Berry's message playing with her head, right?) It was one of the older parts of the school, the renovation funds had been directed towards manicures for the Cheerios, leaving this part of the school looking a little rougher than the rest, with old lockers that refused to open and bulky overhanging lights instead of the usual fluorescent lighting. A meagre attempt at stopping entry into the hallway had been made. Someone had put up yellow "Do not enter tape" across the hallway and had set up not one, but _two_ orange cones. By God, how was she ever going to get into the corridor under these conditions?

She walked up to the section and easily tore down the tape. She kicked one of the orange cones onto its side for good measure. She stepped fully into the hallway and was _not_ immediately struck down by the hand of God. She set a triumphant hand on her hip before turning to look at the crowd. Quite predictably no one chose to follow her. In fact, the closest two people were a good ten feet away from the start of the corridor. She thought that Santana would have had more guts than that.

"Really, guys? She's just making stuff up and you're believing it?"

Brittany fidgeted uncomfortably, but Santana didn't even blink.

"Whatever, Quinn. You can go risk your neck for a dumb ass reason if you want, but Britt and I have got to think about ourselves. If Brittany ever got hurt and I knew I could have prevented it, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Me too," Brittany smiled at the girl and entwined their hands.

Santana's bitch face melted into a sappy look that she would kill anyone for mentioning. For some reason the scene made Quinn's heart clench with something like regret. She ignored it like she's learned to ignore all of her problematic feelings.

"Nothing's going to happen, though… you'll see," She muttered.

The look on Santana's face could only be described as pitying. And if there was one thing Quinn was sick of, it was being pitied for not believing Rachel Berry's stories. So she didn't even care when Santana turned tail and walked away, tugging Brittany along with her. Let them go off and be sickeningly in love, while Quinn waits single and alone in this stupid hallway to make a stupid point. She kicked at the floor and sighed. Well, she wasn't _really_ alone. She stared out at her spectators, who gawked back at her, looking half-terrified, half-morbidly excited.

"Guess what, guys? Nothing's happened yet and nothing is _going_ to happen. It's just a hallway, not Hogwarts. I can't believe you're all so stu-"

"Stupid?" a voice interjected. "Because what you're doing right now is so very smart?"

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and there before her stood a very, very mad Rachel Berry. That was weird. Berry never usually got that mad. When she did get upset, it was always just mild irritation with her fellow Glee clubbers, usually because they were "stealing" solos from her. It wasn't like _this_. All heaving chest and flashing eyes.

If she felt a small (large) thrill go through her it was because she loved making Berry unhappy and not for any _other_ reason. And her mouth was this dry before Rachel ever came by. She was probably just dehydrated or something.

The idiots around her bowed their head reverently as if she was some pissed deity. It was just so dumb. Which took Quinn's mind off of Rachel's heaving bosom and reminded her why she was there in the first place.

"Oh so you're worried now that you're going to be revealed to be a phony? It's too late, you can't stop me. I'm going to make your empire crash to the ground," She wasn't even paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth anymore, she just knew that she wanted to make Rachel flare up with that fiery anger that Quinn always felt when Rachel was around.

To her dismay, what she said seemed to have the opposite effect. The steel went out of Rachel's eyes and her mouth twitched temporarily into a smile of amusement, before it she wiped it off of her face in order to be serious.

"Now you're just being melodramatic. Honestly, my 'empire'? And I suggest you not read The Catcher in the Rye as much. I wouldn't want you to continue calling me a phony and miss out on all the other colourful names you could call me."

Quinn flushed in sudden embarrassment. Okay, so maybe she had been melodramatic. Rachel wasn't exactly Darth Vader.

"So now that you are slightly more subdued, please come over here."

Subdued? Screw that.

"I'm not your dog, Berry, unlike everyone else around you. I'm making a point here," she snarked.

"Quinn, believe it or not, I am actually worried for your physical health, once again. So get out of that damn hallway," Rachel asked, no –commanded.

The steel was back in her eyes. It only spurred on Quinn's joyful disobedience.

"Make me," she dared, backing further into the hallway, underneath one of the lights.

That gorgeous anger blazed up in the brunette once more before it was overtaken with a different look. Tentatively she took a couple steps forward and now she was walking intently forward, breaching the invisible line where the dreaded hallway started.

She wasn't _actually_ going to make Quinn leave, was she?

"Don't you dare touch me, Berry. It's not… it's not like you c-could even do anything since you don't even-"

"Quinn, just shut up," Rachel hissed.

She was close enough now. She grabbed Quinn's arm and swung her violently forward, into her arms. It was too much, much too much, and now they were tumbling roughly to the ground. A split second later she heard a collective gasp and then a loud, metallic crash. The ground underneath her quaked with impact. She didn't know what was going on, the only thing she was sure of was that Rachel's arms were tightly around her and her head was buried in the crook of Quinn's neck. After a slight pause wherein her wildly beating heart attempted to calm itself down, Rachel broke the tight embrace, sitting up and looking down at her in concern.

"You alright?" she breathed.

'From what? You knocking me to the ground for fun?' Could have gone out of the blonde's lips, but instead she just said "Yeah… are you?" Rachel nodded and stood up. Quinn was now greeted with the carnage of the hallway. One of the large overhanging lights had met its swift end, smashing itself to bits on the floor. And cracking the tile open while it was at it. That could have been her head. She shivered.

A hand was now being held out to her from a sheepish looking Rachel. Which, really, what did Rachel have to look sheepish for? Nevertheless, Quinn took the hand to help her up, since she was feeling more than a little shaky.

"Quinn!"

She was nearly knocked over again by the force of the hugs enveloping her. Brittany and Santana liked to play it cool sometimes (well, Santana anyway), but when it came down to it they truly loved her.

"Q, why'd you have to go into that hallway! You know how easily I cry, don't you? I hate you almost as much as I love you," Santana was sobbing into her shoulder.

Brittany brazenly pressed a kiss to her mouth (that was a new one, but there was no tongue, thank _god_).

"Oh my Quinn, good thing we went and got Rachel so she could come and save you! We should have tried harder to get you to leave," The taller blonde said remorsefully.

"It's okay, I wouldn't have gone. I was too busy being…" Quinn met eyes with the diva, who gave her a small smile. Her chest tightened.

"…stupid," she continued, "just stupid."

After a lengthy battle, she extricated herself from the grips of her two friends. Berry, no –Rachel was coming closer and Quinn felt like there was no end to the things she needed to tell her. But where to start?

"Rachel," was the only thing that left her lips before a bright camera flash blinded her temporarily.

And now the previously quiet hallway was awash in the buzz of their forgotten spectators. Jacob Ben Israel was at the head of the pack, camera held aloft.

"Miss Berry, would you like to comment on today's near tragedy that you predicted earlier?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and Quinn stepped forward and grabbed her hand. It felt like a strangely intimate action.

"You guys know the drill, let us get through unless you _like_ getting elbowed in the gut."

* * *

"Thank you. You saved my life."

They were alone now, like Quinn needed them to be. Her words echoed in the empty classroom and they seemed like not enough, not nearly enough. But were there words for what she was feeling right now towards Rachel? Maybe there were, but she didn't know if she could say them aloud.

"You're welcome. I didn't want to see you hurt," Rachel replied warmly.

It seems like her meagre words were enough.

"But how did you know?"

The brunette laughed and shook her head.

"I said it before and I'll say it again, I'm psychic."

"I almost believe you. But not quite," Quinn laughed. "But I'll stop my campaign against you. I know when I'm beat."

Rachel cast her eyes down and worried her lip.

"That's partially my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about your sexuality. It's none of my business and I should have known how you would react."

Rachel just needed to stop blaming herself for things, because Quinn already felt bad as it was. And that demure, downcast look was just making her feel going up to her and lifting her face up and then- She swallowed thickly.

"No, Rachel, it wasn't –I mean, you were right," She sighed.

The brunette's eyes lifted in surprise.

"I've been kind of confused about my feelings for women... well _a_ woman," It was almost pathetic how much she was blushing right now, but more than anything she wanted answers.

"So could you maybe use your psychic powers to tell me what's up? Like am I straight, bi, lesbian, what?" Quinn looked to her expectantly, pleadingly almost.

She wanted someone to give her all the answers instantly, and if Rachel really _was_ psychic Quinn would believe her, if only to get a little peace of mind.

Rachel bit her lip again.

"I'm sorry Quinn, but that's not how this thing works."

The blonde's heart sunk.

"What? Why? Because you're afraid you're going to get it wrong?"

"I don't have all the answers, Quinn. If you don't know what you identify as how am I supposed to tell you? Psychic or not. Would you believe me if I told you that you were actually a unicorn?" the diva asked lightly.

Quinn pulled a face.

"No."

"Well it's the same thing with your sexuality. Whatever I tell you, you're just going to believe what you want to… or what you're afraid might be true," the brunette almost murmured the last part.

As much as she wanted her answers the easy and quick way, she knew Rachel was right. She nodded in agreement, if a bit solemnly.

"And you might start resenting me for having told you, especially if it changes a lot of things in your life and how people view you. And I really don't think I could bear you hating me much more than you already do."

Rachel wasn't meeting her eyes again, looking on the verge of tears. Quinn felt like someone was slowly pressing all the air out of her lungs.

"Rach, you know that's not true. I don't hate you. I could never… I guess I just have to figure things out for myself," She didn't know what she was doing, but her hand was on Rachel's now, tracing soothing patterns. Letters, even. Saying all that she was too confused and frightened to say out loud.

The diva seemed to take heart at that, she smiled and nodded.

"We all need to do a little soul searching sometimes. To figure out what we want and what we need."

"Right. Speaking of need, I was thinking. You've saved my life, what? Twice now?"

Rachel looked like she was going to argue that point, but Quinn didn't let her.

"No, whatever you think, you really did, Rachel. In the end, you're my white knight, not the other way around," She grinned and squeezed her hand.

The other girl grinned back, a bit bashfully.

"And it seems like every time you get another big prediction right, you get a lot more attention than you already had. So I thought maybe I could try to pay you back for saving my life by becoming your security detail. I mean there's going to be a lot worse creeps than Jewfro out there and-" she was cut off by Rachel leaping into her arms in delight.

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" she blurted.

The former cheerleader's mouth gaped open in shock and it seemed that Rachel recalled herself and realised the position she was in. She scrambled off and patted down her skirt.

"Please?"

This was quite possibly going to be the most interesting thing she's ever been involved in.

* * *

Reporters swarmed around them, enclosing the front of the school completely. There was so much shouting that the combined voices ended up sounding much like the bark of elephant seals during mating season. Was that a good analogy or more like something Coach Sylvester would say? Quinn pondered that for a moment.

Actually it might be quite accurate. These reporters were certainly territorial, bumping the weaker ones away from the front, and they were full of lust for a good story. Given the chance they would squash poor little Rachel with their cameras and microphones and enthusiasm.

Quinn glanced over to the diva and found that, quite predictably, she was insufficiently terrified of the dangerous situation she found herself in. Rachel was fixing her hair and practically preening at the attention. The blonde shook her head disapprovingly and scoped out the crowd.

She had her work cut out for her. Taking a deep, calming breath, she wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist and tried not to think about how the girl seemed to lean into her touch. Now wasn't the time.

"Okay, remember: _don't_ say anything."

She didn't wait for the brunette to respond before moving forward.

"Miss Berry-! Miss Berry-!"

"Get out of the way!" Quinn snarled so viciously that the reporter in front of her leapt backwards onto his cameraman.

It was overwhelming. The roar of the crowd, the way Rachel clung to her, the burn of her muscles as she brutally shoved people to the ground. And when they finally got away and into her car, she had only one thing left to say to Rachel.

"You suck."

Rachel gasped in indignation, bringing a hand onto her chest.

"I most certainly do not suck, Quinn!"

"Yes, you do. You're not really making my job easier by stopping to talk to the people that I'm trying to get you away from," Quinn complained while looking into the rear view mirror to make sure they had lost the news crews.

Ever since Rachel had helped police locate the gang of petty thieves that had kidnapped the mayor's dog, leading to a joyful reunification, the media had been all over her. They wanted to know all about her and her powers. And instead of becoming upset that they were focussing on her psychic ability instead of her singing ability she used every opportunity to showcase her talents. Most notably was when Quinn was escorting Rachel out of her house on the way to school last Wednesday and Rachel belted out a number to the reporters through the open window of Quinn's car, much to the blonde's chagrin.

"I'm sorry Quinn, I can't help how I get when there are cameras around. I'm addicted to the attention."

"Don't I give you enough attention...?" Quinn muttered, under her breath.

Rachel didn't seem to notice and went on, "And anyway, it's not a 'job', I never hired you and you're not obligated to spend any time with me if you don't care to."

She sounded upset. Quinn glanced over to the diva in the passenger seat. Rachel had her arms crossed and was staring determinedly out of the window, her mouth set in a thin line. Quinn was finding out that she had a talent at accidentally saying the wrong thing to the girl. The blonde sighed. Thankfully they were almost home –Rachel's home she meant –and they could sort this out. After she pulled into the driveway and parked, she turned to the other girl and made Rachel look at her.

"Rachel, I think the sheer number of musicals I've watched with you in the last month disproves the idea that I don't like spending time with you."

A sceptical look played on the brunette's face.

"You could just really like musi –"

"I _don't_," Quinn told her firmly.

She had never thought that telling Rachel that she didn't like musicals would get her anything but a horrified gasp and a lecture but Quinn had said exactly that and here was Rachel, blushing and smiling shyly at her. Quinn felt a lot of things in that moment, like the hitch in her chest and a sense of hopefulness, but what she didn't in any way feel was any sort of confusion.

"Did you… perhaps maybe want to watch Singing in the Rain with me?"

Whereas Quinn's brain was asking "Again? Didn't we just watch that one?" the girl herself simply nodded in assent, much to Rachel's delight.

So here she was on Rachel's couch again, watching a musical _again_, and once again she found that, most curiously, it felt so very natural to wrap her arm around Rachel's shoulders. Stranger still, the diva always sighed and cuddled into her side.

It was strange.

It wasn't nothing.

It was… _something_. But what exactly it was depended entirely upon the girl who was staring so intently at this movie that Quinn just couldn't pay attention to.

The blonde tried desperately to get Rachel to meet her eyes but she was focussed entirely on the screen. Once she tried to say something but the diva let out a drawn out "shhhhhhh" and pressed a finger to Quinn's mouth in a bid for silence. Finally, when the movie was nearly finished, Quinn took her arm from around Rachel's shoulders. That was bound to get the girl's attention.

She was right. Rachel's brows knit together at the loss of contact, but instead of turning to look at Quinn in question, she simply decided to scoot a bit further down the couch so that she could lay her head down in Quinn's lap while still watching the movie. She didn't even wait for the blonde to tell her it was alright, she just plopped herself down into this fairly intimate position as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was a good sign.

As was the sigh of contentment that came when Quinn started softly brushing Rachel's hair out of her face.

They just stayed like that for a while, remaining in the position even after the credits finished rolling.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?" the diva sat up now and stared at her expectantly.

Quinn really wanted to just go ahead and ask what she was thinking, "Is this what I think it is?" but what ended up coming out was something else entirely.

"How do you know all the things you know? How did you know about the flood, or the east corridor, or where the mayor's Pomeranian went?" She blurted.

Rachel chuckled softly and shook her head.

"Still? What do you think I'm going to say, Quinn?"

The answer rolled off her tongue naturally.

"That you're psychic."

"Exactly. I think you know by now how bad I am at lying to you."

She _was_ pretty bad at it. Quinn found that out two weeks ago when Rachel had eaten the last vegan macadamia nut cookie (Quinn's favourite) while she was calling her mom to tell her that she was staying over for the night.

"So, do you believe me yet?" Rachel asked her, inching closer on the couch.

"Actually… yes," she said, surprised. It wasn't a lie. She had seen Rachel predict too many amazing things for her to hold on to her stubborn disbelief.

Rachel was even closer now, her eyes hooded. She was looking absolutely tempting. And now she was reaching out and caressing Quinn's face lightly. The blonde shuddered at the contact and licked her lip subconsciously.

Somehow, Rachel had wormed her way into Quinn's brain and now the blonde couldn't get her out. She didn't _want_ to.

"And what do you see now?"

"You're... you're going to kiss me," the brunette sounded almost scared to say it, as if it wouldn't come true, even with Quinn drawing herself closer, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Wow, you really are psychic, aren't you?" The blonde laughed before pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss.


End file.
